Ever since I heard the newscasts about the killings in Orlando, it feels like a part of my being can’t help but reach out to the broken hearts of each and every parent being forced to learn what unimaginable really means. I try not to lean into their unspeakable pain too much, but my mind keeps repeating…I am just so very sorry! As I watched the media coverage in the days and weeks after, I could not help but notice…..
I must start this blog with an assurance …unless you are forced into an unimaginable event; your brain will never allow you to really understand. But that mental limitation does not mean you cannot still add to your knowledge of this kind of life experience. If you are bold enough to try, this blog will not only help those looking at the unimaginable from the inside out, but the people whose viewpoint is from the far safer outside looking in perspective. As mentioned in the book, we humans are…..
Every now and then someone will say to me, “When you wrote and published Forever Kalei’s Mom, you took something bad — her death — and turned it into something good.” While I might not totally subscribe to the accuracy of that statement (it implies a conscious plan, and the book was anything but that), I appreciate the meaning behind their words. For me, the something of value (sorry, I just can’t use good) comes from the sum of three things: Kalei’s life, her death and the grief…..
After Kalei’s death, my body instinctively tried to shut itself down — I was no longer hungry and I slept constantly. When her funeral was over, and my last regular universe Kalei’s mom job was done, my will (to live) tried to follow the same path. My being responded to the crisis by changing what was previously an upright structural posture, into what I can only describe as a protective fetal curl designed to help my body withstand the onslaught of unspeakable pain. That was when Mother Nature…..
I have a very unique relationship with this young man. You see, Jarrett died from a brain aneurysm nearly four years before I knew he existed; he was 13 years old. Shortly after Kalei’s funeral service I became aware of a grave due north of where she is buried. Whenever I tended her marker, my eyes would be drawn to this other grave. Eventually I walked over to it, read the words imprinted on it and just, well, started talking to the person whose name was on that marker – Jarrett John Alley. I would say things like, “Your parents take such good…..